A Death In The Family

As I've said, I grew up as an only child. I had no brothers and sisters per se, but the one thing I did have were tons and tons of first cousins who were around my age and we got together frequently. We went to visit them, or they would come to us. We'd spend lots of time playing all kinds of games...hide and seek.....tag.....baseball.....kickball.....board games.....watch TV.....just everything.

Sorry to say, as I've grown older....and moved away from the majority of my family to the big metropolitan area over 400 miles away.....and...**Sigh** the gay thing.....all contributed to the fact that I lost that early closeness with a lot of them.

One thing that I did was to place an emphasis on occasional family reunions that occurred. Even though I went to a lot of these gatherings without my wife, I was able to rekindle those relationships...a little.

One of these cousins was a person that I viewed as kind of special. I don't know why...but it just happened. I remember very well when he came to earth. My mom and dad have a picture of me (all dressed in a white shirt with a bow tie....and perfectly coiffed hair...circa 1963) sitting in the grass of our backyard. Beside me was this little baby boy with dark curly hair. He was barely able to sit up....and there I was.....keeping my hand gently planted on his back....keeping him steady for the camera. And there's that picture...over 40 years later....me sitting thoughtfully...looking down....biting my lip.....and working hard to keep the baby from falling over.

That boy grew up in a sad home life. His father was my dad's older brother. The marriage that brought John to the world didn't last a long time. He had a younger sister. Their mother ran off with a wrong element....she divorced the dad.... The dad, with limited education and career prospects struggled to take care of his young charges. They all moved in with his elderly parents.....who by that time were in their mid-70s.

John had learning difficulties....and speech difficulties. He had a very hard life.

His sister grew up and moved away to the horse country of Kentucky.

John married several times....had some kids.....had some step kids.....and always seemed to live hand-to-mouth.

I saw him about 3 or 4 years ago at one of those family reunions. He still had a speech defect...but his eyes danced to life when our eyes met. I knew him....and he knew me. We talked a mile a minute....trying to catch up. Where did all those years go? I told him about that picture I described earlier. He hadn't seen it. As a matter of fact, he told me that he had very few pictures of himself as a boy...because they got lost...or thrown away during the many family moves and tumult in his young life.

Over the next little while, John moved around a whole lot. Folks never could seem to give me an address for me to send him a copy of the picture. He movved so much that no one could keep his roaming ways straight.

John died Sunday morning at 5:30 -- at 45 -- younger than me.

His funeral will be that of a pauper. You see, he had been on disability from whatever employment he was able to have. He had made application to have social security benefits given to him retroactively for several years since his disability.

That application was approved.

The check was set to be issued, with all the back payments to be included, on November 1st.

But he died Sunday...October 22....a few days short.

His funeral will be Wednesday. Another cousin will be the minister in charge. The burial will be that afternoon. His grave will be near to where I will ultimately rest.

This time no one was there to keep him from falling....at such a young age.